


Get Crafty

by sonicsora



Category: Psychonauts
Genre: Christmas, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Oneshot, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10735209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: Milla takes on the challenge of making an set of ugly Christmas sweaters for a holiday party. Sasha has many, many regrets.





	Get Crafty

**Author's Note:**

> Written originally for the Psychonauts Secret Santa on tumblr. I just realized I hadn't posted it here yet. Consider it a hold over as I work on chapters for my other fics!

“I think you’ve gone mad with power.”

Sasha’s words earned a low amused sound from Milla as the German man turned the sweater over in his hands. The Brazilian woman failed to stifle a grin, hiding it behind her mug of cocoa for a moment. Sasha just waited already contemplating knitting his own sweater at this point.

“Oh, hush. I just went for something fun this year. It’s rare we do an ugly christmas sweater party at work!”

“When you said you were making holiday sweaters, I expected… something normal. Maybe less ugly than expected.” He held the sweater against his body staring down at the headless elf standing on a soft felt snow bank with the words #ELFIE emblazoned in glittery red and green sequins below. The hem of the sweater and collar were decorated in red and green pom poms. “Decapitated elf was not what I signed up for.”

“I’m sure you’re going to look wonderful, Sasha.” She tutted back, clearly undeterred by his partner’s disapproval. “It’s a holiday party, and you know I like to liven things up a little.”

“Introducing you to knitting was my mistake.” He stated dryly back, he folded up his sweater carefully. He popped open his brief case tucking it inside. The smile that earned from Milla was enough to make the german man contemplate actually wearing it later. Maybe.

“You told me this was the simple sweater. Should I even ask what you’ve made for yourself?” Sasha was equal parts curious and equal parts horrified to see what Milla concocted.

The Brazilian woman picked up her sweater from her craft area, bringing it over to lay on the table in front of Sasha. The sweater was a bright nearly eye sore red color with white stripes with a green felt tree glued down in the middle. The tree was decorated very liberally with hand made pom poms of every color, rainbow sequins, beads, and tiny lights that hung off the tree. It took Sasha a moment to realize the lights were very real opposed to disconnected bobbles like he had assumed. 

“…Please tell me it doesn’t light up.”

Milla gladly reached into the sweater, pressing a button on a small battery pack, lighting up the string lights she put into the sweater.

“Mad with power.” He repeated simply as he watched the lights blink from red to green, wondering where Milla even found them. Maybe it was better he didn’t know.

“Mhmm.” Milla turned the lights off after a moment, not wanting to waste her batteries just yet. “Next year I’ll make you a polar bear sweater.”

“That would be preferable.” Sasha paused before adding, “No lights, sequins or hashtags, please.”

Milla playfully stuck her tongue back at Sasha, “Spoil sport.” The psychic man simply laughed in response. A smile threatening to appear. 

“I’ll make you an eyesore of a sweater in exchange. Seem fair?” He offered with a incline of his head, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly to reveal his eyes.

“Perfectly fair.” 

—-

Sasha had to admit the sweaters certainly had effect. Their coworkers likely never saw it coming. He hid a smirk behind a cup of cocoa as Milla strut around, her sweater blinking blindingly. Nor would they really see much again at this point. The mental minx was chatting everyone up, occasionally guiding someone to her onion dip as needed. Milla was unstoppable as she was at every party. 

“I still can’t believe you two made these.” Truman mused from his spot next to Sasha at the hot drink table. His own sweater was… depressingly standard (by Sasha’s estimation) for ugly christmas sweaters. A giant santa head with a few bits of rica-rac glued on. 

“You presented us a challenge, Truman.” 

The bearded man gave a gentle amused snort. “I’ll remember to ask you two to take it down a notch. I’m shocked they can’t see Milla from space.”


End file.
